


Scales of Destiny

by Hyrulehearts1123, sageclover61



Series: Fae Dragon Jaskier [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angry Jaskier | Dandelion, Dragon Jaskier | Dandelion, Episode Fix-It: s01e06 Rare Species, Fae Jaskier | Dandelion, M/M, Magic, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, fae dragons, glamour, this is a new type of dragon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:20:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22783972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyrulehearts1123/pseuds/Hyrulehearts1123, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sageclover61/pseuds/sageclover61
Summary: “Damn it, Jaskier! Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, it's you, shoveling it? The Child Surprise, the djinn, all of it! If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”It's the kind of thing most people would never even think to scream. But Geralt isn't most people. Despite his tendency for silence, it seems he's learned a thing or two about the value of using words that can hurt as much, no, more, than a silver sword to a monster's heart.But Jaskier, he's not going to stand there and take it. Not this time. He cares more about himself than that. Turns out accepting yourself for who you are will break any glamour.Geralt is just confused why there's a very angry and small dragon blasting fireworks in his face, but he deserves it.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Fae Dragon Jaskier [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1637992
Comments: 33
Kudos: 1211





	Scales of Destiny

“Damn it, Jaskier! Why is it whenever I find myself in a pile of shit these days, it's you, shoveling it? The Child Surprise, the djinn, all of it! If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”

Jaskier blinked. A placating response came to his mind, but he couldn’t ignore the anger bubbling inside of him, overwhelming the sense of heartbreak. “Fuck you!” he shouted, earning a surprised look from not only Geralt, but Borch as well. Fuck them  _ both.  _ He wasn’t going to just take this. Not any more. He had more self respect than that.

“If you think that I am going to continue allowing you to treat me like this, then you’ve got another think coming,” he snarled. “I have been following you across the Continent for  _ 23 years _ . That’s more than half of the good adventuring years I have left in my bones, and this is me deciding that enough is fucking enough! You ‘hmm’ and ‘haw’ and ‘fuck’ your way through every conversation, going out of your fucking way to use your fucking words like a goddamn man, pushing me around whenever you fucking feel like it because you seem to think I’ll just continue standing here and taking it and I’m done! I fucking love you, but I’ve learned to love my fucking self too. I respect myself  _ too goddamn much  _ to take any more!”

Decades and decades worth of pent up frustration and anger boiled in his throat, and the world was starting to tilt but he  _ didn’t care.  _ This needed to be said.

“Jaskier-”

Jaskier didn’t care that Borch’s tone wasn’t the condescending note he was expecting. He didn’t  _ need  _ to be told that he needed to calm the fuck down. He didn’t need to be told to shut up and take it. He had stood by for too long, letting anyone and everyone treat him as poorly as they wished without so much as a single complaint or frown. Instead smiling and laughing and building a cage around himself so sturdy that he could pretend as hard and for as long as he needed to that there was no barb that could touch him.

“I am done taking the blame for everything that goes wrong in everyone’s lives, that it’s my fault for existing, or being present in a location, and I am done accepting responsibility for the things that I didn’t fucking do! You’re the one who agreed to go to Cintra with me! You’re the one who may as well have wished for the djinn to kill me!” He took an unsteady breath, eyes burning with what he thought was unshed tears and yet he  _ couldn’t  _ cry. “You’re not the first one, either! My own  _ parents  _ wished that I were dead.”

He panted with his frustration and hurt, lungs burning. He'd spent his entire childhood feeling small and unwanted. He'd rather die than allow the fuck buddy he'd  _ fallen in love with  _ to make him feel that same way all over again.

He lunged, neither noticing nor caring as his feet left the ground entirely and didn't return. Geralt deserved his anger, but he still loved the Witcher far more than he currently deserved.

He spat, intending to spit in Geralt's face because he  _ deserved it _ , and then there was nothing.

* * *

Geralt caught the very small flying lizard that Jaskier had turned into and which had spat very colorful fireworks into his face.

Given that he was a fraction of the size of the dragon egg he'd seen earlier, he was not inclined to think Jaskier was a dragon, but he wasn't sure what else to call him either. His scales were yellow and bronze, which were not colors he'd ever thought of a dragon as being.

He looked over at Borch, who was still sitting on the log, and giving him an amused expression. "I had wondered if something like that might happen. You reap what you sow, Geralt."

"I deserve his anger," Geralt agreed. There wasn't much else he could say, and Jaskier's words had not been wrong. He had been unkind at best, and he would likely spend a very long time repaying for this outburst. "Has Jaskier been a dragon this whole time? Or is it a curse?"

"What do you think?" Borch asked.

Geralt had no idea, which was why he'd asked. He stared at Borch.

Borch sighed. "The fey do their own things in their own ways for their own reasons, but I see this as a curse on Jaskier finally being lifted. No dragon, fey or otherwise, should ever be cursed to human form with no knowledge of who they are. And yet he was a changling. And the parents who raised him knew that. They always know."

The dragon Jaskier had turned into,  _ always been? _ was smaller than one of his hands, and did not stir as he carefully adjusted his hold so that he was holding Jaskier in one hand. With his free hand, he stroked the dragon's back.

Borch stood. "Take care of him. He deserves better from you." With that, the gold dragon left.

Geralt sighed. What was he supposed to do with a fey dragon? Borch had suggested it was wrong to force a dragon into human form against their will, but he did not think that Jaskier would enjoy being stuck in a shape that he couldn’t use to sing or play his lute. Perhaps like gold dragons, he could shapeshift into human form? Would a sorceress be able to-? But Yennefer was gone, and he did not think that she would know.

He packed up his and Jaskier’s gear, and then started hiking down the mountain. It was always faster to travel downhill, and since he was carrying the very small dragon, he didn’t have to worry about traveling too fast for his companion(s) to keep pace.

Geralt made it back to Roach a few hours before sunset. Jaskier had woken up eventually and seemed to enjoy sitting on his shoulder chittering his frustrations, but he made no attempt to fly off.

“Just look at me Geralt!” Jaskier was shouting now, tiny claws digging into Geralt’s shoulder pad. “I’m tiny! How am I supposed to be a world-class bard like this! I'm not apologizing for shouting at you, but you have to fix this! I can't stay like this. I won't!"

Geralt stopped walking. "Jaskier," he said, slowly picking Jaskier up off his shoulder so that the bard turned fey dragon could see him better and he, him. "You were right. I should not have spent all these years taking my frustrations out on you just because I knew they would not deter you, until they did. And I'm glad you learned to respect yourself too." He sighed. "Unfortunately, I'm not sure how I can fix this. Borch suggested that you were born this way, and that you were a fey changling."

Jaskier shuddered. "A fey born who is found so inferior that they would rather exchange it with a healthy human babe than keep it. And then they apply a human looking glamor, but the parents always know that  _ their  _ baby is gone and never coming back."

Geralt sighed again, shaking his head. “Not always. Sometimes, they replace a dead infant with one of theirs that they can’t keep safe, or that life in the fey realm would be too difficult for. It’s not always out of hatred, more often than not, it’s out of love.”

"Tell that to my parents. Sorry, the poor folks who had to raise me," Jaskier spat, little bursts of colorful fireworks spewing from his jaws. "Told me every fucking day of my life that I was an unloved, unwanted burden they would have thrown out if it didn't risk angering the fey. At least now I know the fey didn't want me either."

What was Geralt supposed to say to that? My mom dropped me on a Witcher's doorstep when she decided she didn't want me anymore? Maybe, at least they didn't leave you on a Witcher's doorstep? The trials would have stripped away the glamour, but he did not know what they might have done to a fey dragon. Fortunately, it seemed he didn't have to come up with an answer.

"Borch is a gold dragon with a human form. That means I can have a human form too, right?"

Geralt shrugged, gently lifting Jaskier back to his previous perch on his shoulder. "He likened the breaking of your glamour to a curse breaking, like the curse was that the choice of transformation was taken from you. That suggests that you have the ability to choose which form to take, and make it so under your own power." 

"But how?! Geralt, how do I return to human form?!"

"I don't know," Geralt answered. "I don't know. I can't change my shape, I wouldn't know where to start walking you through it."

"We could have asked Borch!"

"I think Borch would have lectured on the value of learning to respect yourself in whatever form you find yourself in, even if it's not the one you want in the moment."

“Fuck that! I want to be human again!”

And there was nothing Geralt could do about that, so he said nothing.

* * *

There was still daylight left when he finally reached Roach at the bottom of the mountain, so he mounted and headed south. He might not have wanted to check on his child surprise, but if everyone was right about war coming to Cintra, then it was time to see for himself that she was safe and in good hands.

The sun was just going down when he felt Jaskier shiver and press closer to his neck. "I'm cold," the bard dragon mumbled. "Why is it always so cold? Shouldn't being a dragon provide more protection than human skin?"

He knew so little about humans, but why had he never wondered at how Jaskier always complained of cold, even in the middle of summer?

"We need to go a little further," Geralt said. They were making great time though. He'd never really considered how much faster he could travel when he didn't need to keep pace with Jaskier walking beside him. But he didn't want to stop where any humans might happen upon him. Not with a dragon he needed to keep safe from the unscrupulous humans who would want him for potions ingredients. "But then you can have a fire to warm yourself."

Jaskier made a happy noise that resembled a purr, and curled up on his shoulder.

By the time Geralt was ready to stop and light a fire, Jaskier had been dozing on his shoulder for awhile.

As soon as the fire was lit, Jaskier stirred and dove right for it, burying himself in the middle of the kindling and firewood.

Geralt winced, waiting for Jaskier to screech in agony as he burned his scales, but no such thing happened. If anything, Jaskier seemed to be incredibly pleased by the situation, all but curling up inside the fire and purring happily.

Maybe Jaskier was part fire drake.

* * *

“Oh fuck, that doesn’t look good.”

Geralt looked around, trying to find whatever Jaskier was looking at, and he froze when he saw it.

A pillar of smoke rose towards the sky, and there was the faint glow of a raging fire in the far distance, in the direction of Cintra.

For the first time in years, Geralt felt fear. Not for himself, or for Jaskier, but for the child of surprise who he had never taken the chance to meet. The child who was likely dead, either killed by the invaders, or left to suffocate on the smoke that would quickly overtake the city and surrounding countryside.

“Fuck.”

He climbed onto Roach then, barely taking the time to ensure that Jaskier would be able to hold on before urging her into a gallop, taking off towards Cintra as fast as possible.

He needed to find his child of surprise, and make sure that she was safe.

* * *

“I don’t have much to offer you, but I can offer the Law of Surprise! That which I have, but don’t yet know!”

Geralt rolled his eyes, sheathing his sword, and was about to decline the offer, when he felt Jaskier scratch at him with a claw from where he was hidden. It seemed that he thought that the farmer had something worth offering, and Geralt sighed.

“Fine, I’ll claim it at another time. Right now, all I need is somewhere to rest for the night, and feed for my horse.” He would need more, but for the moment, it would have to be enough. Just until he could find the child that was promised to him.

The farmer nodded then, looking grateful for Geralt’s help moments before. “Certainly, my family have more horses at our home, and we can spare feed, and a room for the evening. It isn’t far, just a few miles south of here.”

With a nod, Geralt whistled for Roach, before turning back to the farmer. “Lead on.”

He waited for the farmer to walk towards his own horse, before rolling his eyes again. “Jaskier, if you just made me accept something useless, I’m going to strangle you.”

The bard in question poked his head out from where he had been hiding, somehow managing to grin, despite being a dragon. “I just know that it’s going to be something important, or even lead to something good. Who knows? It could lead us to your Child Surprise!”

“If you’re wrong, you’re going to be Roach’s dinner.”

“I don’t think I’ll be wrong, but if I am, I’ll accept my fate.”

The rest of the journey to the farmer’s home was made in silence. It was almost two hours before they finally saw a farmhouse off in the distance, a child running out to greet them.

“Dad! Mom found a girl out in the market and brought her home!” The child exclaimed, and Geralt paused.

“You don’t think?” He could hear Jaskier whisper from the saddlebag, and he tapped it softly. He wasn’t certain, but there was only one way to find out.

Geralt closed his eyes, extending his senses as he listened for what he almost believed Jaskier to be right about.

The woods. There was someone in the woods.

_ “The girl in the woods will be with you always. She is your destiny.” _

He reached to grab Jaskier out of the saddle bag, and then slid over the side of the cart and onto the ground. He limped in the direction the noise had come from, straight into the forest.

The girl. His Child Surprise. She was here. She was his destiny, and destiny had seen fit to ensure he knew that by giving her to him with the law of surprise not once, but twice.

“I was right,” Jaskier said. “Wasn’t I? It has to be her.”

Geralt hummed, paying less attention to Jaskier and more for the sounds he’d heard. Where was the girl? Was she running because she was in danger? Or for some other reason? He kept limping forward.

He was pretty sure Jaskier was humming, but he was still focused on the other sounds of the woods. Where was Cirilla?

He didn’t have to wonder for very long, because not a moment later, he could see her running directly towards him. There didn’t seem to be anything chasing her, not that he could see. Yet she was  _ clearly  _ running right for him. He held out his arms, just in time for her to run head first into his embrace.

Geralt smiled despite himself. No one had  _ ever  _ sought his affection so freely. Jaskier did as he was wont, but never with the same disregard for his comfort as the girl did now.

“People linked by destiny will always find each other,” he found himself saying. It seemed almost an echo of what his dream of Visenna had said, and Renfri so much earlier.

You did not cheat destiny. You did not.

“Why do you have a dragon?” she asked, when she stepped away from him.

Jaskier trilled happily, chest puffed out in an expression that could only be pride. “This is Jaskier,” he said. “My bard.” And so much more than that, but those things were not for the ears of a child. Not yet.

**Author's Note:**

> There may or may not be more, but this has been set as part of series in preparation for the event of a sequel.


End file.
